The Serum
by sudsalot
Summary: Response to a challenge of gilmorefanforever's. When people speak, Lorelai hears not what they're saying, but what they're really thinking. The story deals with how she learns this and how people are really reacting to her. Including, of course, Luke.
1. Chapter 1

_The Serum_

_'Beauty is truth, truth beauty, - that is all_

_Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.'_

- John Keats, _Ode on a Grecian Urn_

Sleep was rapidly overtaking Lorelai Gilmore on the road from Stars Hollow to Hartford. She did everything she could to stay awake, from turning up the music to drumming on her legs to yelling as loud as she could and opening the window to expose her face to the frigid November air, but nothing helped. "Wake up!" she shouted to herself. "Do you want to become some statistic of people killed when they fell asleep at the wheel?" There was no answer. She pulled over to the side of the road and got out of the jeep, then stretched her body this way and that in a vain attempt to ward off the Rip Van Winkle effect. She looked around, not expecting to see anything. It was a typical stretch of freeway, dark, with a car whizzing past every few seconds. She looked up, but saw no stars in the overcast sky.

Something caught her eye. There was a light to her left, in a space between some trees. She had never seen it before, but it was pretty well hidden from the freeway and very easy to miss. She glanced closer and saw that the light was illuminating a sign. All she could see was the letters Co in faded paint. Her curiosity piqued, she piled into the jeep for the short drive across the highway. There was a small road on the right that led directly to the dimly lit building. There was no mistaking the sign this close up. It said _Coffee, Coffee, Coffee_. Lorelai grinned and glanced inside the glass panes on the door. She saw a grey-haired woman standing behind a counter, stroking a small cat. There was a small, empty parking lot to the side. Lorelai parked and walked up to the building.

"Welcome," said the woman the moment she saw Lorelai. "Care for some coffee?"

Lorelai stepped inside and nearly fell over in delight. She was surrounded by the most heavenly coffee aroma she had ever encountered. It was as if she had been transported to Colombia and was standing in the middle of a coffee factory. Or a roasting factory. Wait, maybe Turkey instead of Colombia. Or Italy! She shook her head, amused at her internal coffee musings and smiled at the woman with the cat.

"I'd love some, thank you," she said.

"Have a seat, please" said the woman. She was short, maybe five feet two inches, with faded blue eyes, a wise, wrinkled face and thick bifocals.

"My name's Martha," she said, softly.

Lorelai sat down at the counter. "I'm Lorelai."

"Oh, where are my manners?" said Martha. "Here, have a menu. Never mind Roquefort there. He's harmless."

"Roquefort?"

"My cat," said Martha. "He's really very friendly."

The cat sidled up to Lorelai and pushed the top of his head against her upper arm, rubbing it up and down and purring.

"I think he understands you," said Lorelai, smiling.

"After all this time, I should think so. Roquefort's been with me for more than 70 years." She wandered to a nearby table and began straightening the magazines piled on top of it.

Lorelai didn't say anything. Martha clearly counted age in cat years, making Roquefort about ten years old. She stroked Roquefort a couple of times, then looked at the menu and did a double take. It was amazing. There were more coffee variations here than she had ever heard of, all with weird, wonderful names that she wanted to try. _Siberian La-La, Marrakesh On the Run, Fiorenzo Grr, Laplandish Tongue-Twister, Costa Rican Thingamajig, Virginian Cherry Tree of Truth, Colombian Scramble, Georgian Fuzz Sans Peach _and something called _Razzmatazz With a Side of Jazz._ And the dessert menu went on for three whole pages. _Too bad I don't have time for some pie_, she thought. Martha came back to the counter, waiting patiently. Lorelai looked up from the menu.

"What do you recommend?" she asked.

"It depends," said Martha. "What effect are you looking for?"

"Effect? I just need to stay awake. I'm heading to Hartford to pick up my daughter from school. Then we're heading to my parent's house for dinner. I don't dare fall asleep during mom's precious Friday night dinner. It would be like a priest falling asleep at the pope's dinner table. Without the excommunication, I guess. Though with _my_ parents you never know."

"Well, they _all_ make you stay awake, dear. They're all loaded with caffeine. What _effect_ are you looking for?" The question hung in the air a few seconds while Lorelai pondered it. She shrugged. "I don't know what you mean," she offered, weakly.

Martha looked left, then right as though someone might be spying on them. She put her face right in front of Lorelai's and whispered "the coffee…is _magical!_"

Lorelai giggled, then quickly covered her mouth with her hand as though she had burped. Martha looked sad and Lorelai was afraid she had hurt the elderly woman's feelings.

"Tell you what," she whispered back, "surprise me!"

"Love to!" said Martha with the gusto of a sailor on leave. She spun around and got to work. Roquefort continued to push his head against Lorelai's arm. She picked him up and gently placed him on the floor.

"Time to show you who's boss," said Lorelai.

As it turned out, it was Roquefort.

* * *

"Meow." 

Lorelai swatted at her left ear with her hand.

"Meow."

She swatted at her right ear, too. After a few more meows Lorelai was having flashbacks to the 70's and a song called "Moving in Stereo" by _The Cars_.

"Vinaigrette, there you are," said Martha to the svelte Siamese cat with her muzzle next to Lorelai's right ear. "Don't bother our guest, please. It's rude." The cat jumped to the floor, followed by Roquefort and together they curled up in front of the fireplace. Lorelai, her curiosity piqued, was glancing around the entire store.

"Honey Mustard? Bleu Cheese? Ranch?" she proffered.

"If you're looking for another cat," said Martha, "I don't have one. I like how you think, though."

"Just trying to keep from being taken hostage as official cat petter," said Lorelai. She was surprised to see an elegant cup of coffee in front of her.

"Ooh, thank you," she said. She brought the cup to her mouth slowly, savoring the aroma. Her entire body prepped itself for a much-needed caffeine infusion. She sipped slowly, carefully, and it took a moment for the flavor to register. She pursed her lips a few times, letting her taste buds do their work.

"Oh my!" she finally said when the shock to her system passed. Is that…cherry?"

"It is," said Martha. "How do you like it?"

"I love it. It's totally unique. I'm guessing this is _Virginian Cherry Tree of Truth?_"

"Yes," said Martha. "It was my husband's favorite. One day, when he was just a boy, he chopped down a cherry tree. He took the cherries from it and added their juices to his coffee. I borrowed the recipe for the very drink you're enjoying now. But drink it slowly, dear. Too fast and you never know what might happen."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the cherries I used are descended from the very cherry tree that my husband chopped down as a youth. After he started using the cherries, he found that his relationship with truth was…_altered._ He never told me how, and I don't like cherries, so I've never tried this myself. But several of my customers have reported the same thing. It seems to be worse if you drink it too fast."

"Wait a minute," said Lorelai. "Your husband chopped down a cherry tree when he was young. His relationship with truth changed? Your name is Martha. You're not Martha…_Washington_, are you?"

"Just how old do I look, dear?" said Martha, and Lorelai's face turned bright red.

"I'm so sorry," said Lorelai when the words she just said sunk in. "I don't know what came over me."

"It's the coffee," said Martha. "Better slow down a little."

Lorelai glanced at her watch. "I will," she said, "but I've really got to go. Can you put it in a to go cup, please?" She picked up the coffee cup and handed it to Martha. "Rory's going to kill me," she said absentmindedly.

"Rory?"

"My daughter. She's waiting for me at school. I'm _really_ late."

A few minutes later, Lorelai was roaring down the road toward Hartford. She looked at the Styrofoam cup in her hand, shrugged, and finished the coffee in a single sip.

* * *

Lorelai decided it was best to simply take the brunt of Rory's anger and not bother to explain. This, she realized, was both a good idea and completely necessary, as she wasn't entirely sure what _did _transpire at _Coffee, Coffee, Coffee._ It was utterly outside her experience, and she was sure that as she thought about it over the next few days, the details would change. Rory was, of course, angry, but she showed it with impassioned stares and a pout a mile wide rather than any vitriolic dialogue, so the drive to the elder Gilmore's was made in silence. The maid opened the door, saw Lorelai and Rory, and said "oh, shit, _two_ of them. How am I going to please Emily with two more guests to look after?"

"Excuse me?" said Lorelai. She was used to the maids not living up to Emily's standards, but to hear one say so to her face was vaguely insulting.

"Great," said the maid, "this one's just like her mother. I'm dead."

Lorelai was so surprised by this that she simply handed her coat to the maid without a word. She grabbed Rory and pulled her aside.

"What was _that_?" she asked.

"What was what?" asked Rory.

"That attitude from the maid! I mean, you know that with my mother as her employer she's probably being worked to within an inch of her life, but to say something like _that_?

"Like what?" asked Rory. "She was perfectly nice."

"Didn't you hear her?" Lorelai was almost shouting.

Emily's voice rose above all. "What are you two doing there?" she said. "Did your legs stop working, or are you planning an elaborate escape?"

"Sorry," said Lorelai. "I was telling Rory something about Chilton."

"Well, then get it over with and come have drinks," said Emily. She stood there, hands on her hips, waiting patiently.

"Uh, mom? It's private. Will you excuse us for a minute?"

"What could be so private about Chilton? When your father and I send Rory's tuition check to the headmaster's office they don't send back anything about us being excluded from the private affairs of the students."

Lorelai smiled awkwardly and turned to face Rory. "Rory, the headmaster wanted you to remember to…bring those, um…_cupcakes_ to school tomorrow. You wouldn't want to disappoint the children now, would you?"

"The children?" said Rory, befuddled.

"You know, the kids from…the junior high, touring Chilton tomorrow."

Emily wasn't convinced. "So, this is the big secret, huh? Cupcakes and kids? Well, with something of such monumental importance, it's no wonder that Hanlin Charleston himself got personally involved. You wouldn't want the children to visit a nationally renowned prep school without having cupcakes, would you? Of course, Hanlin will verify this when I call him in the morning. He's on our speed dial, you know. Right before you."

"So, what about those drinks?" said Lorelai.

"Nice job changing the subject. Well, let's go."

* * *

"What kept you?" asked Richard the moment he saw Lorelai and Rory. 

"Lorelai was explaining to Rory the importance of bringing cupcakes to school tomorrow," said Emily.

"Cupcakes?" said Richard. "At Chilton? Nonsense."

"Could we move onto another subject, please?" said Lorelai.

"What else have you got?" said Emily. "Is that inn you work at running short on M&M's?"

"I _manage_ the Independence Inn, mom! I've told you a hundred times!"

"Oy with the poodles already!" shouted Rory, stunning everyone into silence. Rory looked at Lorelai. Lorelai looked at Emily. Emily looked at Richard. Richard looked at his watch. No one said anything until…

"Dinner's ready!" said the maid a moment later.

"Dinner _can't_ be ready!" said Emily, her face quickly taking on the color of an overripe tomato. "We haven't even had drinks!"

"Damn," said the maid, "I've worked for some real bitches in my time, but you, lady, take the cake!"

"Well, you can just keep it hot until we've had our drinks!" said Emily. "I'll tell you when to serve. Now go!"

Lorelai was stunned. Her mother, who had fired maids for such trivial reasons as putting milk on the wrong shelf in the refrigerator, had just listened to the maid call her a bitch and she didn't do a thing about it.

_Something weird's going on here,_ she thought.

* * *

The night passed slowly. Lorelai was determined not to say much, but to concentrate on listening instead. Rory brought Richard and Emily up-to-date on school and Richard and Emily interrupted now and again for questions. There was nothing out of the ordinary about it. The maid stayed away until Emily called her to bring the coats. 

"Thank God you're leaving," said the maid as she helped Lorelai on with her coat. "Now maybe that harpy you call mom will take her skinny ass to bed and I'll finally get some peace."

"Uh-huh," said Lorelai.

"So," said Lorelai on the drive home, "what happened tonight?"

"Well," said Rory, "the only thing out of the ordinary was the way you were acting. You were completely paranoid. You kept cocking your head toward whomever was speaking, and you looked at the maid as though she was an assassin or something. And your conversation, what little of it there was, could have put a speed freak right to sleep. Other than that, nothing."

"It's the weirdest thing," said Lorelai, "but I thought the maid was saying such hateful things tonight. Did you hear her call my mom a bitch?"

"What? Of course not. If she had, she'd have been fired immediately."

"Yet I'm sure she said it. And she had nothing good to say about us, either. That doesn't bug me, but it was just so…strange."

Rory looked at her watch. "Hey, can we stop at Luke's for coffee?" she said. "I've got to finish up my paper on the Revolutionary War tonight, and I'll need a little help staying awake."

"Sure," said Lorelai, but her mind was thinking other things. _Martha told me the coffee was magic and that it might work in unexpected ways if I drank it too fast. No, it can't be true…can it?_

_To be continued_


	2. Chapter 2

_The Serum_

_Chapter Two_

Luke's was empty except for Miss Patty and Babette at one table and Kirk at another, slowly working on one milkshake with two crazily coiled straws. He had apparently brought them from home since Luke would_never_ keep such items in stock, even for kids. Luke stared at Kirk with a pained look on his face, but he brightened up when Lorelai and Rory sat down at the counter.

"Luke! Our savior!" said Rory. "We need coffee desperately."

"Are you crazy?" said Luke. "It's almost 10. Do you want to stay awake all night?"

"Pretty much," said Rory. "I've got an important history paper due on Monday and I'm going to need as much time as I can get from the weekend to really nail the siege at Yorktown. It's one-fourth of my grade."

Luke knew better than to argue the point. "I wonder if 'homework' was the excuse that your mother used when her coffee addiction started?" he said to Rory as he poured.

"I didn't need an excuse," said Lorelai, holding up her cup. "I was drinking coffee in elementary school. While all the other girls were running around during recess playing jacks or whatever, I was sneaking into the teacher's lounge for coffee and a few pages of_The Bell Jar._"

"She's not kidding," said Rory. "I've seen pictures."

"Is this before you were institutionalized?" asked Luke.

"Oops," said Lorelai, and Luke realized he had spilled a bit of coffee on the counter.

"Damn, she's wearing that perfume again," he said. "Doesn't she know it drives me out of my mind? I can't concentrate with her smelling all desirable like that!"

Lorelai froze. _Uh oh,_ she thought, _here we go again. Wait…was he thinking that about __**me**_ _He thinks __**I**__ smell desirable? What, is he living in a 40's radio commercial? _The seconds ticked away as Luke waited for Lorelai to say something. She had no idea what he had actually said, though, so she couldn't think of what to say in response. She decided it was best to simply take a chance.

"Cream and sugar, the usual," she offered.

A strange look came over Luke's face, which Lorelai took to mean 1) she'd said something entirely inappropriate and 2) Luke thought she was crazy. Of course it wasn't the first time she had thought either of those things, or the first time Luke had thought it.

"What was _that?_" asked Rory when Luke went into the kitchen.

"What?"

"He asks you if you burned yourself, and you answer with "cream and sugar?"

"Oh. Yeah, weird, huh?"

"More than weird, mom. Worrisome."

"Nah, it's nothing to worry about. I have a feeling I'll be back to my old self tomorrow."

"What makes you think so? Have you been afflicted like this before?"

"Yeah, once or twice. It wears off. I'm just a little off my game, that's all."

"Um, okay," said Rory.

They took their next cup of coffee to go, and as they were leaving Luke's, Kirk had moved over to Miss Patty and Babette's table. "I'd really like to go to bed with her," Kirk blurted to Miss Patty, "but I don't think I could ever live up to her expectations." Lorelai turned bright red, but Miss Patty was smiling and Luke didn't charge over and order Kirk to leave, so Lorelai realized that she was still hearing things. Things she wasn't supposed to hear. And it bothered her like nothing else had in a long time.

* * *

The next morning, Lorelai was up with the dawn, feeling perfectly refreshed. _If I'm feeling this good, then that weird coffee effect wore off, for sure,_ she thought. _And, if it's worn off, then I must be ready for more coffee! Luke's! _She knew Rory had only been in bed for a couple of hours, but she wanted to have some fun, so she burst into Rory's bedroom banging a saucepan with the lid and making a general pest of herself. 

"Ahh," came Rory's muted voice from beneath a pile of pillows.

"Wake up, sleepyhead!" shouted Lorelai. She bounced on the end of Rory's bed a few times and got a kick in her hip in response.

"Norgah latmanafleebur!" said Rory, or something that sounded like that.

Lorelai pulled Rory's pillows away from her face one by one.

"What did you just say?"

"I said I'm _so_ going to kill you," Rory deadpanned.

"Aha! That's what I heard you say! So, I'm fine, just like I promised."

"I wouldn't say you're fine," said Rory. "There's contrary evidence you know - like a preternatural need to torture your daughter."

"Come on!" pleaded Lorelai. "Once you get Luke's coffee in your system, you'll feel fine. And you're still not done with your paper, right?"

Rory's relevancy receptors readily reacted to this revelation. She poked her head up from the bed slowly.

"I hate to say it, but you're right," she said. "We'll go, just as soon as I get out of the shower."

"Tell me you got _some_ sleep," said Luke as he poured Rory's coffee.

"Some," offered Rory, "but not enough."

"It's never enough," said Luke, "if you're hell-bent on using caffeine to get you through the days."

"Just until I graduate," said Rory.

"Oh, coffee boy!" said Lorelai from a nearby table. She was holding up an empty cup.

"What are you doing over there?" said Luke, a little louder than necessary.

"Rory kept kicking me," said Lorelai, "and I bruise easily, so I decided not to grace her table with my presence."

"Why was she kicking you?"

"No good reason. Something about 'contributing to the eventual delinquency of a minor.' Double talk, if you ask me. I don't get no respect." She straightened an imaginary tie in her best Rodney Dangerfield impression. .

Luke held up his hand, palm forward. Rory slapped it with her own.

"You high-fived Rory?" said Lorelai. "You can't do that! It sets a bad precedent. Adults like us have to stick together."

"I'm a free spirit," said Luke. "I go with whoever's right. With you and Rory that means Rory 90 of the time." Rory chuckled.

"What are you going to do if she cuts me up and buries me beneath the gazebo?" said Lorelai. "Buy her a car?"

"I don't have that kind of luck," said Luke, "but if she did, then not having to serve you coffee will be its own reward."

"Oh yeah? If I were truly gone, you'd miss me."

"I had the measles once. Didn't miss them when they were gone."

Lorelai put on her best pout. Her lower lip thrust outward so far it nearly covered her chin. "We'll just see about that," she said dramatically. "I may just take my business elsewhere."

"Perfect," said Luke. "My insurance premiums will be cut in half."

"Ahh!" said Lorelai, and she marched out of the diner. A half-hour later, she was at _Coffee, Coffee, Coffee._

* * *

"More _Virginian Cherry Tree of Truth,_ dear?" asked Martha. Lorelai looked around, saw Roquefort and Vinaigrette playing with a ball of string. As before, she was the only customer. 

"Yes, please," she said absent-mindedly.

"You seem lost in thought," said Martha a few minutes later as she refilled Lorelai's empty cup. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, I guess so." She let that sit for a moment, then added "no."

"Care to talk about it?" Martha said this so matter-of-factly that Lorelai realized she had asked this question many times before, to other…victims.

"Martha, tell me the truth. Did that coffee do anything to me?"

"You didn't drink it too fast, did you?"

"If it was a beer, I'd have shotgunned it."

"Oh, dear. I was afraid you might do that. You'll be fine – in fact, the effect has probably worn off already. But I'll bet you were in for a wild ride."

"Yeah, it was. And I didn't exactly like it."

"Then why did you come back and order more of the same?"

Lorelai thought about it for a minute. "I don't know," she said slowly. "I didn't like what I heard, not at all, except…that bit with Luke…" She trailed off, lost in thought.

"Who's Luke?" asked Martha. She had to snap her fingers to regain Lorelai's attention.

"Luke? He's just some guy. Runs the local diner, keeps me fed. Nothing special."

"Whenever a woman talks about 'some guy' and says he isn't special, then it's a good bet that there's more to it than that. He has feelings for you, right? Is that what you heard?"

"Not feelings, exactly," she giggled. "More like lust."

"There's nothing wrong with a little lust from time to time," said Martha, "as long as there's love there, too. Does he love you? Do _you_ love _him_?"

"Love? No, I don't love him. Really, he's just a friend."

"Then ask yourself this: if he's just a friend, why do want to hear more of his private thoughts? Are you trying to trap him or something?"

Lorelai perked up. "Aha!" she said, "I _am_ hearing people's thoughts! I knew it!"

"Not everyone's Lorelai. Just some people."

"Oh, right," she said, the reality of it finally kicking in. "I didn't hear Rory's thoughts, or my parents', but I did hear the maid's. And Luke's, of course, but the difference between what he said last night, which was lusty and playful, and today, which was teasing me but bordering on mean, is too much to take."

"That's a clue. Here's another one: everything I just told you – the words I spoke – were all lies. You heard entirely different words than what I actually spoke. But what you heard was the underlying truth behind the words. This way, I can keep my promise to my husband not to give away any secrets and you can get the answers you deserve. But listen closely, Lorelai, even though I believe in you, I want to warn you not to use this to take advantage of any one."

"I wouldn't do that," said Lorelai.

"I know," said Martha. She held up her own coffee cup. "Nepalese freeze. Helps me to understand people's true nature. I could see right away that you'd never do that – you're really very kind at heart - but it's good to reiterate the important things once in a while." She smiled, a warm, grandmotherly flash of dentures with a streak or two of lipstick. "Good luck, Lorelai. Come on back after you've figured it out and we'll talk some more."

Lorelai finished her 2nd cup of _Virginian Cherry Tree of Truth_in 3 sips, and thus ended another trip to _Coffee, Coffee, Coffee_.

* * *

"Independence Inn, Michel speaking." 

"Michel," yelled Lorelai, "I've been calling all over for Rory. Is she there?"

"Yes," said Michel, holding the phone from his ear at the sound of Lorelai's voice. "She's studying with that delicious scoundrel with the leather jacket and the cute butt. Jess, no?"

The pause unnerved Michel a bit. He was used to Lorelai's rapid patter and the silence in its stead spoke volumes. "Lorelai, are you there?" he asked softly. Lorelai sighed inaudibly. She had always suspected that Michel was gay, but he clearly didn't want her to know. But now, thanks to that coffee, she _did_ know, and having that knowledge was eating her up inside. This couldn't be worth it, not if she was going to learn such private things about her closest friends. Or anyone else, for that matter.

"She's there?" said Lorelai. "Okay. Would you just tell her that I'll see her at Luke's for dinner at seven?"

All the life, all the joy, all the Lorelai Gilmore goodness had gone out of her voice, and Michel detected it instantly. "Is everything okay?" he asked. His voice, never that harsh without whining, had taken on an even softer tone. It sounded genuinely caring, which was, of course, unusual, and a smile crept across Lorelai's face without her knowing it.

"Everything's fine, Michel. Thank you for asking."

Lorelai hung up the phone feeling gloomy. She felt a sadness that Michel's uncomfortable disclosure by itself did not account for. The thought that she was trying to use this new power to pry into other people's private lives gnawed at her. She valued her own privacy and guarded it strenuously; shouldn't others have the same right? How would she feel if Rory came home humiliated because the whole town was able to pick up on her every thought? She'd hold Rory and comfort her; did Kirk or Michel have someone who could mother them with the same intensity? That they might never know that Lorelai could hear their thoughts didn't matter to her. The principle was the same, whether they knew or not. _I won't do it_, she told herself. _Once this wears off, that's it! _She cocked her head, expecting to feel instantly better but her spirit remained mired in the doldrums. And it was still there when at 6:30, she drove to the Independence Inn.

* * *

"I knew it!" said Michel when he spied Lorelai coming in the door. "You didn't trust me to tell Rory to meet you at Luke's. You had to come down here on your precious day off and do it yourself." 

"That's_ not_ why I'm here," said Lorelai. "I thought I'd surprise Rory."

"Then the surprise is on you. She's not here."

"She's not? I thought you said she was studying."

"I did. She was. But she did _not_ stay glued to that chair until 6:53, then leave and walk the seven minute trip to Luke's in order to meet you precisely at 7. She and Jess left. I did not ask where they went. Too bad, too. He's the kind of rough, young stud I could just-"

A crash came from the kitchen. Lorelai rushed in there to see Sookie on the floor.

"Aah!" cried Sookie, "it's my ankle!"

"Let me help you up," said Lorelai, but it quickly became clear that Sookie could not put any weight on her right foot. Michel was loitering in the background when Lorelai saw him.

"Call Rory at Luke's and tell her I'm taking Sookie to the hospital," she said.

* * *

The waiting room was crowded, and Lorelai and Sookie spent the time waiting by talking up a storm. _Thank God the coffee effect has worn off,_ thought Lorelai. _Everything Sookie is saying makes perfect sense._ A young girl, her face tight and bordering on tears looked at Lorelai and gestured to an open seat. 

"Is this seat taken?" she asked. Her lip quivered when she spoke.

"No," said Lorelai, "have a seat." The girl was clearly upset and Lorelai, remembering how lonely it was when she was pregnant with Rory, said "I'm Lorelai."

"I think I have the clap," said the girl.

Lorelai smiled and turned back to Sookie. _That answers that_ she thought. _The coffee effect is still in full swing._

* * *

"Sookie Mellville?" 

Lorelai pushed Sookie's wheelchair to the nurse's station. "It's Bellville," said Sookie.

"Really?" said Lorelai. "I thought it was Mellville, too."

"So did I, when Jackson and I got married. Took me over a month to learn otherwise."

"Rory thinks it's Mellville. So does Mrs. Kim."

"And Taylor," said Sookie.

"I hope your foot falls off," said the nurse. Lorelai did a double take before she realized that the nurse didn't really say that.

"Oh, sorry," said Sookie. "He's sleeping with the cucumbers."

"Okay," said the nurse. "If that's like sleeping with the fishes, he probably killed himself, just to get away from you." She started walking away.

"Lorelai?" asked Sookie, "aren't you going to follow her?"

"Oh, yeah," said Lorelai. "Sorry, my mind was elsewhere."

* * *

The doctor placed an x-ray on his light screen and pointed at it with a stick. 

"There's nothing wrong with your foot," he said, "but we don't make much money that way so we're pretending it's broken and we'll put a cast on it. It'll set you back plenty."

"Really?" said Sookie. "It's broken, huh? Funny, it's been broken before, and it hurt a lot more that time than this time. Maybe I'm just getting good at it. Shouldn't it have swelled a lot more if it was broken?"

"Not in all cases," said the doctor.

"Um, doctor, can I see you over here for a moment?" said Lorelai, gesturing with her thumb. The doctor looked at Sookie as if asking for permission.

"Sure, go ahead," she said.

"Doctor," said Lorelai when they were out of earshot, "you and I both know that foot isn't broken. And I don't like you pretending it is just to get more money out of my best friend."

"Well, aren't you the bitch," said the doctor.

"Yes," said Lorelai, "I'm quite the bitch, and you'll find out just how much if you don't treat this properly."

The doctor turned white. He opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it.

"Gosh I'm sorry," said the doctor to Sookie, "but I had the wrong x-ray. There's actually nothing wrong with your foot. It's just bruised, that's all."

"Really?" said Sookie. "Lorelai, did you hear that?"

"I heard it," said Lorelai. "That's great." _Maybe there's something to this power after all,_ thought Lorelai.

_To be continued..._


	3. Chapter 3

_The Serum_

_Chapter Three_

Lorelai tossed and turned all night. She was determined to get out from under this situation. It was so untenable – the sorrow she felt from her encounter with Michel far outweighed the joy of exposing that charlatan of a doctor. She thought about what Martha had told her – that it was a clue that she heard some people's thoughts, but not others. So, she had heard the thoughts of the maid, Luke, Kirk, Michel, the girl with VD and the doctor. She had distinctly _not_ heard the thoughts of her parents, Rory, and Sookie. She went back over the situations, the conversations, the feelings she had at the time. Was she giving off weird vibe, some sort of coffee-induced discoloration about the face? No, that couldn't be it. The thoughts had to be there, swirling around in the air the whole time. The coffee had simply awakened in her some perception that was latent in all – it allowed her to pull people's thoughts out of the ether. But why for only some people? She got up and paced around her room, took a hot shower, channel surfed – anything to put her in the right frame of mind to solve this. And, just after dawn, like the fog lifting off Lake Doose, the pieces all fell into place. She was confident she had it, but she needed to corroborate it. There was only one way to do that, though, so it was off to _Coffee, Coffee, Coffee_ for two more cups of that magical elixir, and then over to Luke's.

* * *

"What are you doing here?" asked Luke as Lorelai sat down.

"Hey, good morning to you, too."

"It's just that I don't usually see you before noon on a Sunday, and here it is, barely 9 a.m. and you're awake. Coffee?" He held the pot poised over Lorelai's empty cup.

"No, thanks," was all she said in reply.

"Okay, now you're scaring me. Are you sick or something?"

"Sick? Just because I don't want any coffee this morning?" She pushed the rim of the glasses she rarely wore higher on her nose.

"Yeah," said Luke. "You not wanting coffee is like the pope not wanting his bible."

"Well, this is nothing that sacred. I just couldn't get to sleep last night, and I don't want to drink any more coffee and stay awake all day, too. I want to have a nice, leisurely breakfast and then go home and crash for three days."

"I really like your glasses," said Luke, catching Lorelai completely off-guard. "I know some women think glasses are awful, but your glasses draw attention to your eyes. Your beautiful ey…so the French Toast is what I'd go with."

Lorelai swallowed hard. What was this? It was though she was hearing Luke's thoughts and then they trailed away to be replaced by his actual words. Then she realized something she hadn't noticed before: the words he was saying did not match his mouth. She was no lip-reader, but even she could notice _that._

"Okay," she stammered, "French Toast. And bacon."

Luke scribbled on a pad. "You're wearing that perfume again," he said. "How much can a guy take? You're making me…with peaches in a sweet sauce."

"Sounds great," said Lorelai hopefully.

"Be right back," said Luke, and he disappeared into the kitchen.

Lorelai was not prepared for this. She had expected a binary option – either she heard Luke's thoughts or she didn't. Half and half was completely unexpected. Then the truth of it hit her, like a knockout punch from the heavyweight champion.

* * *

"Coffee, please," Lorelai said as Luke delivered her breakfast.

"I knew it couldn't last," said Luke. He filled her cup and moved swiftly on to another customer. Lorelai ate her breakfast as slowly as she could. It was delicious, as usual. _What would happen if Luke suddenly shut the diner?_ she wondered, not for the first time. She watched him with customers – so gruff, so contentious, so different than most restaurants with their usual milquetoast of a manager that bent over backwards with false sincerity to appease customers and increase business. Luke was no-nonsense, and that had come in handy many times in Lorelai's life. She thought about all the things he had done for her – fixing her stairs, unclogging drains, building a ramp for her fashion show or a chuppa for her aborted wedding to Max. What was different this time? Why was she gleefully flashing back to the good things he had done for her over the years? Was it because she had heard his thoughts and had insight into his feelings for her? Was she beginning to develop feelings for him? She chatted at him when he walked by, not knowing what she was saying, but she liked it and it felt right. It flowed, naturally, like water from a spring. And she caught little signs that Luke was listening closely, too. An upraised eyebrow here, a comment there, a passing glance with just the beginning of a smile on his face. She finally realized that she was talking about Rory. That made sense. Luke treated Rory like she was his own daughter – certainly better than Christopher ever had. And every time that Luke passed her that morning his pause grew a little longer, his comments a little sweeter and his smile just a bit wider. And, like the Grinch, high over Whoville on Christmas morn, each time Luke smiled at Lorelai her heart began to grow, and with that growth came plenty of space for Luke.

* * *

_She's smiling again_, thought Luke as he took a tip from the counter._Damn, she has a beautiful smile._ He kept refilling her coffee, listening to her prattle on and on about Rory like any proud mother._It fits – that voice, coming from that mouth, framed by those lips._ He nodded in agreement as he passed, or, if he had a little time, he'd pipe in with how proud he was of Rory. _You've done an amazing job with her, Lorelai_, he thought. _Rory gets that confidence from you, that sense that she can do anything at all. It's such an incredible gift you've given her. _He listened and thought and poured cup after cup of coffee, and each time he poured he was a little bit happier to do it. _Why haven't I listened to her like this before?_ he wondered. _Is this what I've been missing over the years? Was I too blind or too dumb or too stubborn to pick up on just how wonderful she is? _Each time he walked past her he felt his mouth opening ever so slightly wider and a wisp of air swirling over his teeth. By the time the breakfast rush ended and they were alone in the diner, his coffee pot was empty and his heart was full. "I'll make another pot of coffee," he said in a bid to get her to stay, but what he was thinking was _I think I love you, Lorelai._ _Somehow, I think I always have. _And she didn't pick up on a word of it.

* * *

So Lorelai stayed and drank coffee, and Luke poured it and listened to her every word. Still, he was a caught a little off-guard when she abruptly changed the subject.

"Luke, tell me about your dad."

"My dad?" he said. "My dad was…my hero. He taught me how to fish and how to use tools." He chuckled. "We taught each other to cook, after mom died. I was pretty close to being malnourished for a while, but we both got better." Lorelai smiled, but Luke turned away from Lorelai and stared into space. "When he died, I just couldn't keep this place as a hardware store. It was too…too _him_, I guess. Most guys think they're not as good a man as their father. I don't torture myself about it, but sometimes I really wonder."

"You shouldn't ever wonder," said Lorelai. "You're a different person, your own person. Comparisons don't work."

Luke turned back around. "Yeah, I know. It's just that he always knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted to fall in love, get married, have a family, have a business. He didn't hesitate – he grabbed life by the ball…the horns. I've never done any of that."

"That's not true," said Lorelai. "You have this diner, with his old sign on the window. You started your own business, and you kept his memory alive at the same time. He'd be proud of you, Luke."

"You know, when he was on his deathbed, he told my sister Liz and I that he was sorry he never saw us get married. And after he died, Liz married the next guy she dated. It didn't work out, of course. How could it, if you're doing it for the wrong reasons?"

"Ah, there it is, Luke. Don't you see? You _know_ that there are wrong reasons, and you know what the right reasons are. You're ahead of the curve, my friend."

"I'm not so sure that I know the right reasons. It's all just guesswork."

"That's true, but you know enough not to go out and marry the first woman you date out of some obligation to your father. I'm not trying to pass judgment on Liz, but she had it wrong. You know that. You've got to find someone you really love."

"What about you?" said Luke. "Were you ever married to Rory's dad?"

Lorelai laughed. "Luke, I'm shocked that you don't know this by now. No, I never married Christopher. He wanted to, and God knows my parents wanted me to, but I was only sixteen and there was no way I was getting married that young."

"Boy, pregnancy and then defiance. Is that why you don't get along with your parents?"

"Well, that and they never got over the fact that I wasn't Debbie Debutante."

The bell on the door tolled and Kirk came in.

"Luke, did I leave my bag here this morning?" he said.

"Your man-purse? Yes, you did." He pulled the bag out from behind the counter and handed it to Kirk.

"Thanks, Luke," said Kirk, unembarrassed as usual. "I left my prescription in it. I have a case of jock itch that you wouldn't believe. I'm red all over my crotch."

Kirk turned around and left. Luke didn't comment about the jock-itch thing, so Lorelai realized she had heard Kirk's thoughts. She wasn't out of the woods yet, but she had completely stopped hearing Luke's thoughts and that was confirmation of her theory. _I've got to tell Rory,_ she thought. _She'll know what to do._ She waited until Luke was looking at her, then glanced at her watch and yawned.

"I'd better get going," she said.

"Did you really stay awake all night?" said Luke, grinning.

"Yeah," said Lorelai, "but I'll go home and catch a nap for a couple of hours and then I'll be as good as new."

"You can't do that!" said Luke. "You'll kill yourself if you don't get enough quality sleep Trust me and sleep the night away. You'll feel a lot better for it."

"Says the man who serves me pancakes with whipped cream and chocolate chips," she giggled. "Bye-bye, Luke."

"See 'ya."

* * *

Rory listened patiently as Lorelai started telling her about the incredible coffee and its ethereal effect. Lorelai began speaking slowly and carefully, but soon her words were spilling out of her mouth almost breathlessly as she finally came to what had just happened in the diner. Rory was, as Lorelai expected, skeptical at first, but Lorelai's impassioned sincerity made Rory wonder if it really could be true.

"So, here's my theory," said Lorelai. "I think Luke loves me."

"Huh?" said Rory. True or not, this was a huge leap. "What makes you say that?"

"Weren't you listening?" said Lorelai. "I heard certain people's thoughts. The maid, Kirk, the girl in the hospital, Luke. But other people's thoughts I _couldn't_ read, like you, my parents, Sookie, and now, Luke."

"So your theory is that you can hear the thoughts of people who don't love you, but not the thoughts of people who _do_ love you?"

"Don't you agree?" asked Lorelai. "It fits the facts. You _have_ to agree, Rory. I'm counting on you to tell me I got it right."

"Why? Are you hung up on Luke or something?"

"What? Don't be silly."

"Then why is it so important that he loves you?"

"It's not important that he loves me. It's important that I've figured this thing out."

"OK, let's say you're right and Luke is head-over-heels, off his rocker, so bad he can't focus on anything else in love with you. What's next?"

"Nothing's next. He'll just pine for me, as so many men do, and that'll be that. I can't help it if I'm so enchanting that men fall in love with me at the drop of a hat. I'm not going to turn off my charm just so he can stop taking cold showers."

"Then let me put it this way," said Rory, "what if the reason you can't hear certain people's thoughts isn't because _they_ love_you_, but because _you_ love _them?_"

"Huh?"

"You heard me, mom. Maybe this revelation is that you love Luke, not the other way around. You're going along, minding your own business, but deep inside, you've got feelings for Luke. At first, they're just this side of love, so you can hear what he's thinking. Then, pow! Lorelai loves Luke and his thoughts dry up like a glass of water in the desert." Rory raised her arms over her head on 'pow.'

"But I told you what I heard him think!" protested Lorelai. "All that stuff about swooning over my perfume and how my glasses enhance my eyes…that's not exactly me loving him, you know."

"True, but let's say he _does_ love you. That might have been true a year ago. If you had had that coffee back then, would you have heard his thoughts?"

"Yes, of course. He didn't love me then."

"But you'd still hear his thoughts if he loved you and you didn't know it, but you didn't love him. Or if he didn't love you at all. In fact, he still might not love you. It could totally be your feelings for him that's causing all this."

"But I don't love Luke!" shouted Lorelai. "And he loves me, or if he doesn't, he's sure got a lot of weird thoughts going around in that head of his."

Rory looked disappointed. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Why? You seem sad to hear it."

"Well, I have to admit that for a while I've wondered if you and Luke would ever get together. Okay, not wondered, _hoped_. He's a great guy, mom, and guess what? Coffee or no coffee, I think he likes you. Maybe he even loves you. Would it be so bad to start dating Luke?"

Lorelai thought about it for a minute. "No, it wouldn't be so bad," she admitted. "He does fit pretty snugly into our lives."

"So you _could_ love him."

"Rory, let's not go that far. Let's just say that I'd be open to dating him. _Maybe_."

"_I_ think it's love," said Rory.

"It's not, honey. In fact, I'll prove it to you. Put your shoes on and we'll go see Martha. She'll clear this whole thing up."

So they did.

_To be concluded…_


	4. Chapter 4

_The Serum_

_Chapter Four_

"Welcome back!" said Martha cheerfully as soon as she spied Lorelai. "Two visits in a single day? I'm lucky indeed." Rory slid in the door a moment later. "And you must be Rory," continued Martha. "Please, sit down." She pointed to the chair that Lorelai had sat in before. "This is her," said Lorelai. "Rory. My kid. The offspring. 9 month certificate of deposit. Fruit of the womb…"

"You can stop now," said Rory, picking up a menu. 

"I'll give you some time to browse," said Martha. She casually slipped off into the kitchen, laughing softly.

"What do you think?" said Lorelai.

"It's just like you described," said Rory, looking around. She felt something rubbing on her ankle and looked down.

"That's Vinaigrette," said Lorelai. 

"It's Roquefort," said Martha from the kitchen.

Rory watched as Roquefort crouched, then sprang straight up and somehow managed to glide sideways in mid-air towards the counter, landing with the perfect grace cats require of themselves when people are watching. Rory started scratching him under the chin and got back an earful of purring for her efforts. 

"So," said Rory, "you had _Virginian Cherry Tree of Truth_, right?"

"I don't recommend it," said Lorelai. "Not unless you want to hear Dean's deepest secrets."

"Dean loves me," said Rory, "so if your theory is correct, I wouldn't hear his thoughts. But I'll tell you this…I have no intention of ever knowing what really goes on in Mrs. Kim's head, so I'll steer clear."

Lorelai laughed. "Good idea. What looks good?"

"Lots of things. _Cantonese Cup of Curiosity_._ Charleston Do-Si-Do. Freudian Sip. Copacabana Coconut and Banana_.Oh, I wonder what _Lake Superior Superior Posterior_ is all about?"

"It tones the backside," said Martha as she emerged from the kitchen. "I developed the recipe when I was a student at Marquette University." She held up a catnip filled toy mouse and tossed it, then watched in delight as Roquefort pounced on it. 

"Do you like tea, Rory?" asked Martha. "I have a concoction called_Eterni-tea_. It will awaken your true feelings for the one you love." 

"I don't need it," said Rory. "I know who I love. Besides, I'm not much of a tea person. I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about," said Martha.

"I'll try _Cinnamon Girl with a Nutmeg Swirl_, said Lorelai.

"And I'll have a _San Francisco Disco Duck_" said Rory. 

"Good choice," said Martha. "I haven't made that since the 70's."

Lorelai and Rory savored their coffee while Martha cleaned the espresso machine. Inevitably, they both requested refills and Martha thought it was appropriate to try to drum up a little more business.

"Would either of you care for some dessert?" she offered as she cleared their empty cups.

"I've been thinking about that," said Lorelai. "I'm dying to try your_Chocolate Soufflé Away With Me_."

"You'll love it," said Martha. "What about you, Rory?"

"I'll have the _We All Scream for Pie Scream_, please."

A few minutes later, Lorelai and Rory were in sensory overload as a thousand distinct and magical flavors danced on their tongues.

* * *

"Martha?" asked Lorelai softly when she and Rory had finished their desserts.

Martha pulled up a chair from her side of the counter and sat down. "Yes, Lorelai, you deserve answers. I guess you've gotten yourself into a situation and you need help."  
"How did you know?"

"Just a coincidence. I drank a cup of _Virginian Cherry Tree of Truth_ about five minutes before you arrived. Now, even though I know what's on your mind, it will help you to tell me. Get it out in the open."

"Well," began Lorelai, "I told you about Luke, and how I heard his thoughts. Well, after hearing certain other people's thoughts, and_not _hearing certain _other_ people's thoughts, I came to a conclusion, and that is that Luke loves me. I figured it like this – the people whose thoughts I could hear didn't love me – like strangers, or friends from town – or Luke. But I was talking to Luke this morning, and suddenly, his thoughts grew fainter and then they just disappeared. But the thing is, that put Luke in the same company of people whose thoughts I couldn't hear, but I know love me, like Rory, my parents and my best friend. Am I right? Luke loves, me, right?"

"Why ask me? Why don't you ask him?"

"Because I don't want to feel like an idiot if he calls me crazy. I want to be right about it so I can approach him and let him down easy."

"What?" cried Rory. "Let him down? You're not going to date him?"

"I can't, Rory," said Lorelai. "It's too soon after Max."

Rory frowned, and Martha put her hands on Lorelai's own. "He loves you," she said, softly, her eyes full of understanding. "But there's no use denying it, Lorelai. You love him, too." 

"What?" said Lorelai, her face frozen in what she hoped was a convincing look of shock. Rory chuckled, but quickly covered her mouth with her hand.

"I said you were right about Luke," said Martha. "And your reasoning was mostly right, too. You can't hear the thoughts of people who love you. But you have to love them, too. It's a two-way street. Unrequited love, painful though it may be, is not enough because the formula works on trust. If you love someone, you trust them. If they love you, they trust you. So, something happened today that made the floodgates open. Luke may have already loved you, or you may have already loved him, or neither one. But once you stopped being able to hear his thoughts, it's because the trust bond between you was completed, where it wasn't before. The kind of trust that only comes from love, Lorelai." She chuckled. "Trust me. Or, better yet, trust yourself. If you're at this point with Luke, this point of mutual love, of mutual trust, don't you owe it to each other to at least acknowledge it?"

Lorelai was silent for a moment. "Is there any chance you could be wrong?" she finally asked. 

"No," said Martha, "and I know you know that it's true."

"Busted by a 50 year-old concoction," said Lorelai. 

"So you _do_ love Luke!" said Rory. "I _knew_ it!"

"So what?" said Lorelai defensively. "He loves me, too. Well, who can blame him?"

"That's the spirit," said Martha. 

"Let me just ask one question," said Lorelai. "Why does it stop working when _both_ people love each other?"

"Because there's no need for it then. You see, if both people love each other, then they won't lie to each other. That's the very definition of trust."

"I guess it is," said Lorelai. She sighed. 

"Ready to go now?" asked Rory. 

"Two quick things: what does _Cinnamon Girl with a Nutmeg Swirl_ do?"

"It makes you talk in your sleep," said Martha. 

"Uh-oh. How long does it last?" 

"You had two cups, so it'll last two nights."

"Got it. Oh, and here's the other thing. Thank you, Martha. I think – I think you've given me a weird and unusual gift. I was lucky enough to know, without a doubt, the precise moment Luke fell in love with me. How many women can say that?"

"It could have been the moment you fell in love with him, mom," Rory said. She looked at Martha who shook her head. 

"Happy to help, Lorelai," said Martha. And don't be a stranger, either of you."

* * *

"I'll walk over to Dean's from here," said Rory as Lorelai pulled up in front of Luke's. 

"See you at home," said Lorelai. She walked inside, planted herself at the counter and let out a long, embarrassing yawn. 

"Didn't get enough sleep?" asked Luke.

"I'm fine," said Lorelai. "I took a pretty good nap." Her eyes, red and swollen, were barely open and she was blinking quickly, hoping that Luke wouldn't see the water pooled in them from yawning. It didn't work.

"You look like you could use some coffee," he said.

"I'm surprised to hear you say that, Luke. Usually you try to make me drink less."

"Well, as long as you're here, I don't want you dropping your head on the counter and making a little puddle of drool next to your face. My customers would flee." He poured her a cup and moved on to ring up a customer. The real reason, of course, was that he was happy to see Lorelai again so soon and would try anything to keep her there while he a) dealt with business and b) worked up the nerve to ask her on a date. He kept spying on her, darting from table to table while always glancing in her direction. Even a hint of her needing a refill would send him scurrying her way. Lorelai, though, was unaware of it all. The lack of sleep, coffee or not, had caught up with her. By the time the dinner rush had subsided, she was sitting at the counter, arms apart, her only movements being the soft heaving of her chest as she breathed and her slowly bobbing head. Suddenly, her head moved slightly backwards and then forward, her chin slamming against her chest so hard that Luke was surprised it didn't wake her up. _She must really need the _sleep, he thought. _I missed my chance_. He decided to let her sleep as he cleaned up.

* * *

"Take me to bed, Luke." 

Luke's eyes widened as he mopped the floor near the counter. He shook his head, deciding that he couldn't have heard what he just thought he heard. 

"Take me to _bed_, Luke, this minute!"

Luke dropped the mop and bent over, his face close to Lorelai's own. She was clearly asleep. Her lips quivered, then parted. 

"I love you."

It was about thirty seconds and another "take me to bed" before Luke realized he hadn't taken a breath. He exhaled hard, feeling a little dizzy in the process. He looked at Lorelai again. She looked so peaceful, gently sleeping on the counter stool. _I can't take advantage of her_, he thought. _I'd better wake her up and drive her home_. He shook Lorelai's shoulder. Nothing happened except a high-pitched giggle and an "oh yeah, baby, that's it! Work the shoulder, Luke." 

"Work the shoulder?" he said out loud. "What's that supposed to mean?" But instead of playing the philosopher, Luke turned out the lights and, like Rhett Butler, he carried his own Scarlett O'Hara in his arms and marched up the stairs to his bedroom.

* * *

The first thing that Lorelai noticed when she opened her eyes was the shaft of intense sunlight piercing through the slats of Luke's window shutters. She shaded her eyes with her hand and sat up. She was _not_ in her own bed. She looked around and saw Luke asleep in a chair a few feet away. She carefully lifted up the covers, horrified that she might be naked. She wasn't, except for her bare feet. Apparently, Luke had been a gentleman last night. Thank God. 

RING!

The sound practically levitated Lorelai and threw her off the bed. Luke reached over and shut off the alarm clock without opening his eyes. Thinking he was in bed, he swung his legs over to one side and the action lifted him right out of the chair and onto the floor. Lorelai laughed as Luke's head popped up from the end of the bed. 

"Hazakaleshma," said a still groggy Luke.

"That sounds about right," said Lorelai. "Now, would you mind telling me why I'm in your bed?"

"I couldn't wake you up," Luke said from the floor. "And you were repeatedly telling me to take you to bed, so I did." 

"Huh?" said Lorelai. 

"You talk in your sleep," said Luke, and memories of _Cinnamon Girl with a Nutmeg Swirl_ came rushing back to Lorelai. She suddenly felt nauseous. "How long was I asleep in the diner?" she asked. 

"Not too long. Don't worry, I'm the only one who heard you talking."

Lorelai's pulse rate dropped from 300 to 90 with that last sentence. "Um…what_else_ did I say?" she asked. She absent-mindedly began to rub her right shoulder with her left hand.

Luke stood up, then sat on the end of the bed. "Nothing much. Just that you were really sleepy and you needed to crash." 

Lorelai realized that she was rubbing her shoulder. She stopped, and slowly turned her head to stare at it. It was just a shoulder, like everyone else has. She looked at Luke with a half-hearted smile. "I guess I really needed the sleep," she said. "I'm sorry, Luke, it'll never happen again."

"It's OK," he said. "I was tired of sleeping in a bed anyway." He stood up. "Listen, I'm going to take a shower. Hang around and I'll make you some breakfast." 

"OK," said Lorelai, but the moment Luke closed the bathroom door she put on her shoes and flew downstairs and out the diner.

* * *

"Hey," said Luke when he saw Lorelai sitting at his apartment's table. "Ready for some breakfast?"

"Mind if I take a shower myself?" asked Lorelai. 

"No, not at all," said Luke. "Let me get you a clean towel." He did a double-take and said "what's this?"

"What do they look like? They're flowers, Luke. I thought the place could use some cheer." She was still breathing a little heavily from running off to buy them in the first place. 

"Cheer? Why? I'm not a cheerful guy. I don't need cheer."

"Try it, Luke. You may just like it. And, in the same vein, you should have another book around somewhere. I'm sure _The Baseball Encyclopedia_ is great and all, but…"

"It's not cheerful enough, is that it? I should buy some chick book that Oprah's hawking and get in touch with my feminine side?"

Lorelai laughed. "It couldn't hurt." She grabbed the towel out of Luke's hands and marched off to the bathroom. The door hadn't been closed more than two seconds when she was faced with yet another ethical dilemma. 

_Should I do it?_ she thought. _No, I can't. It's wrong._ _But…_She looked at her face in the medicine cabinet mirror, grasped the bottom right corner, snapped her eyes shut, and slowly swung the door toward her. She opened one eye, then the other and quickly made a mental inventory. _Alka-Seltzer, Crest, Scope, shaving cream, razor…when does he ever shave? Toothbrush, Vitamin C, Polo cologne, Irish Spring…thank God nothing for jock itch or athlete's foot. Or worse._

* * *

The first thing that hit her was the smell of coffee and bacon, a combination that Lorelai ranked with peanut butter and chocolate on the culinary goodness scale. 

"Bacon, Luke? For _me_?"

"Well, you know it isn't for me. There's enough nitrates in bacon to…to do whatever it is that nitrates do, and that ain't good." He grabbed two pieces of bacon with tongs and dropped them on Lorelai's plate.

"Nitrates keep me pretty," said Lorelai, and Luke shrugged and plopped six more pieces in front of Lorelai. She laughed, and Luke felt the tightness in his chest dissipate. _Why am I so nervous?_ he wondered. He took a deep breath and plodded on. 

"Coffee?"

"Of course," said Lorelai. "Caffeine keeps my hair shiny."

"Do the scientists at MIT know about you?" said Luke. He sat down and poured water from a kettle into his cup and steeped his tea. 

"Ooh, that smells good," said Lorelai. "Roses, lemon and…peppermint?"

"It's new, I guess. It's really good. Different, you know? It showed up at the diner as a free sample. It's called _Eterni-Tea_. I've been drinking nothing else since yesterday." He spelled it out while Lorelai was having a _Coffee, Coffee, Coffee _flashback._What was it that Martha said?_, she thought. 

"_Do you like tea, Rory?" asked Martha. _"_I have a concoction called Eterni-tea. It will awaken your true feelings for the one you love._"

So Martha had been doing a little back-door matchmaking and Lorelai had to work hard to internalize the unfettered joy she felt.

* * *

It was one of those conversations that most new couples have and that are played over in the memory for years. The joy in learning about someone you're interested in, the laughs, the feelings just on the surface, ready to bubble over in a cauldron of emotion. The smiles. Luke had such a great smile. Lorelai noticed the small wrinkles at his temples as his mouth opened wide, and his eyes seemed to disappear behind narrow slits. _How different Luke is than Chris_, she thought._ Luke's a man, he's confident but not arrogant, he's secure and he knows it. Chris is still such a child. That was OK when I was fifteen, but now? Oh, Luke, why did it take me so long to realize it? No, I won't go there. I know it now, and I'm ready to move forward. _She swallowed hard, ready to make her move, but Luke caught her by surprise. 

"So," he said softly, glancing down at his hands, "why didn't you marry Max?"

It was silent for a moment while Lorelai gathered her thoughts. She hadn't talked about Max for a while and it was still a painful subject. But Martha's words about trust came flooding back to her. "It was lots of things," she finally said, "but I guess at the end, what it boiled down to is that I just couldn't picture myself growing old with him. He rushed into asking me, and even though I took more time in answering him, it just wouldn't have worked."

"Was there someone else?"

"Someone else? No. Well, actually there was. I wasn't having an affair or anything like that. But I really believe in destiny, and I know deep down that the reason I didn't marry him was that there _was_ someone else. I didn't know it at the time, but I think I've finally figured it out. Luke raised an eyebrow, but didn't say a word. Lorelai nodded slowly and Luke reached across the table and took her hands in his. He stood up and leaned over the table and Lorelai sat still and closed her eyes. 

It was perfect. Lorelai wondered how a man as big, strong and gruff as Luke could be such a gentle kisser, but by the second kiss, she had forgotten all about it. She scooted to the other side of the table and dropped herself into Luke's lap. She wrapped her arms around his back and kissed him again, and she could feel his chest heaving with excitement. The hairs on the back began to shimmy as she rubbed her hands over his stubble. Luke's hat dropped to the floor and Lorelai began to tug at his shirt. 

There was a loud knock at the door. "Luke, we _really_ need you!" said Cesar. "We're getting slammed down there!"

"I'll be right there!" yelled Luke, though to Cesar it sounded like "I'zm burble hair!" That, of course, is what happens when one tries to speak with a woman on his lap and her lips on his own. 

"Pick this up tonight?" asked Luke. "Around seven?"

"I'll be here," said Lorelai. 

"I'll make you dinner."

"Don't go to any trouble, Luke. Just keep me in nitrates and caffeine and I'm happy. Oh, wait. Make that nitrates, caffeine, and you."

* * *

Lorelai slammed the door and yelled "Rory!" She frantically burst into Rory's room, only to find her bed made up. _Dean!_ she thought, snapping her fingers, but on her way outside, she heard the television playing _Casablanca. _Rory was asleep on the couch and Lorelai shook her awake. 

"Rory, guess what?"

"Quack."

"What?"

"Quaaaack!" said Rory. She was pouting and looked on the verge of tears. 

"Oh my God!" said Lorelai. "_San Francisco Disco Duck?_"

Rory nodded. 

"Martha better know how to fix this!" declared Lorelai. "Get your shoes on. Oh, man! I've only been home for ten seconds! Where are my bloody keys?" She found them and rushed to the door. 

"Mom, wait!"

Lorelai spun around. "What is it? We've got to hurry!" It took her a second to realize that Rory was speaking in words again.

"So, you're just yanking my chain, huh?"

"A little. I just wanted to make sure you're not putting too much stock in those serums of Martha. Even _she_ couldn't turn me into a duck."

"And you're not putting enough faith in her. _I've_ got a date."

"That's great!" said Rory. "Tell me about it tomorrow. Right now, I'm going to bed to finish my nap." She walked away, and Lorelai watched her and laughed. She had no choice. Rory's butt was swerving from side to side in the perfect imitation of a duck gliding across the water.

"Here's to you, Martha," said Lorelai. She glanced at the TV. _Casablanca_ was just ending. She raised an imaginary champagne glass and spoke those famous words in tandem with Bogart, but with one slight alteration. 

"Luke, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

_The End_


End file.
